MOUNTAINS, FORESTS AND FIRE: STORIES OF THE SONS OF DURIN
by geekyalbatross
Summary: Canon fan fiction, with my own interpretations of scenes that may have happened off camera / in between the lines of the book. Some Kiliel, a lot of family dynamics and interpersonal relationships. Working on an arc to give the sons of Durin a hefty back story before they meet their canonical fates. Tolkien verse.
1. Chapter 1

Kili looked sideways at his older brother, who was leaning against the rock wall, smoking his pipe and watching as the hobbit fussed about with his bed roll. Fili always seemed to have an effortless suave about him, perhaps stemming from the knowledge that he might someday be king, and so he became used to eyes being on him, and projected a calm and collected exterior for those eyes to see. There were moments, of course, when Kili saw through the facade, and usually this was when he had done something foolish or reckless that made Fili's face express worry or chagrin. Their mother always said Kili looked for trouble, and wouldn't have gotten far in life were it not for the cool head of his older brother. Kili didn't think that was necessarily true - after all, he did talk himself out of some tough spots on his own here and there. He even talked and charmed his way around Mister Dwalin once, after the older dwarf had caught him in his quarters, trying out some old daggers that the dwarf veteran had displayed on the walls of his small home, some remnant of the battles he had fought many years before. And of course there had been the scraps he'd gotten into with other dwarves of his own age - he found he often had to defend himself against taunts and barbs, because he was taller than most and hadn't been able to grow a proper beard, two things that together made him an easy target. A short and sturdy dwarf, with broad shoulders and a ripe beard, that was what was considered manly and attractive among their kind. To the eyes of those around him he looked waifish, even somewhat elf-like. He bore some resemlence to his Uncle Thorin of course - dark of hair and with deep, chestnut eyes, and he was of the line of Durin, an honorable thing that no one could deny. But he was the ugly duckling. It was his brother who embodied all a dwarf should be -beard and braids kept well and beaded, working long hours in the smithy and with muscled arms and strong shoulders to show for it. He was half a foot shorter than Kili, and many spoke of how he resembled their father, a father Kili didn't even remember and felt little connection to. Thorin was who raised him, along with his Ma, Dis. Thorin it was who talked with him in the quiet of their small stone home when his nose was bleeding and his eye blackened from another bout with the young men of Ered Luin.

"There is honour in defending yourself, Kili, but there is also a need for a Prince of Durin to make alliances, and find friendship among his people. Why is it you so often go off alone, hunting with your bow in the forests abroad, instead of working the smithy with Fili? It would do you good to spend some time crafting and showing the value of your skills with the hammer." Thorin was sitting across from Kili, while the fire in the hearth crackled beside them. In his own chair Kili shifted, uncomfortable, his head beating a steady rhythm and his vision blurring a bit on the edges. Galdin had gotten a good shot in before the end, and his head still swam. He touched his jaw gingerly and winced, then shook his head to clear it. He looked up to meet Thorin's eyes, which were soft in the firelight. He was waiting patiently for Kili to speak.

"Uncle..." he trailed off, unsure of himself at first. He took a deep breath and sighing let it out. "I find little joy in the smithy, and prefer the crafting of my bows and the delicate work of making arrows. Hunting and tracking, shooting targets and dagger play, that's where I find my talents lie. And it allows for wandering - discovering new things in the hills, new places, rocks and streams. I've found no companions who follow the same desires of my heart, save Fili who for a time will explore with me, and who will press the knowledge of his swords against my daggers."

Thorin considered this a moment, then said quietly, "In this you have always been like me, that your heart roams far over and away from Ered Luin, towards distant lands and strange things. I do not fault you for this." He leaned forward in his chair, putting his hands together as he gathered his thoughts and letting his eyes drift to the fire. "There may come a time soon where you will get your wish to see more of the wide world."

Kili's mind started at this and he found himself beginning to smile. "What are you planning, Uncle?"

Thorin turned his head towards Kili, and leaned back once more in his chair. "A journey, to meet an old friend near the borders of the Halfling's land, that which they call The Shire. He has called on me to speak with him and I dare to hope that he has news of Thrain."

Kili's face expressed awe at the name of the rightful heir to the title of King Under the Mountain, who had fought Orcs at the Gates of Moria and was widely said to have left that great battle and become a wanderer, a seeker, and a prophet. "Do you think this friend of yours can lead you to Thrain? Do you think he still lives?"

Thorin shook his head slowly. "I am not certain of anything, but this old friend is wise, and knows many things that have come to pass, of which Dwarves, Elves and Men alike may not always fully understand. I must at least hear what he has to say, if only it is to put to rest the fool's hope in my heart that my father still lives."

Kili looked away, knowing some measure of what his Uncle must feel. When he looked up again, Thorin was again looking right at him, a small smile on his lips. "What?" Kili said, thrown off by the change of mood in his Uncle's demeanor.

"I know you are the younger, and you feel yourself to be the lesser man, because of what those others say about you and your appearance."

Kili shifted, now truly uncomfortable, and not at all from the ringing in his head. He felt himself flush with heat and knew his cheeks must be turning red.

His Uncle continued, "I think you take these things too much to heart. You too are a Prince of Durin, and could some day come to the throne, whether you wish it or no. A King must always have confidence in himself, and know his true self well, or be fated to rule ill-heartedly. You are young yet, and your beard will become fuller with time. Your tallness is not a weakness but a strength, giving you advantage on your foes. Your interests are your own, and no one who finds himself fighting beside you in battle would be thankless for your skills with a bow when the enemy comes down from on high, nor make fun of your preference for daggers when Orcs and wargs come in close with teeth and claws." He leaned in close now, and put his hands on the young dwarf's shoulders, looking him square in the eye. "There is value in you just as you are, just as much value as in your brother, as in any dwarf who claims in his line the blood of Durin."

Kili's breath was coming quicker now, feeling himself exposed and all his deepest fears and doubts laid to light. He was staring at his Uncle as he said all this, unable to look away. Now he nodded slightly, the smallest trace of tears in the corners of his eyes. Thorin was right, and Kili knew then that he had to start living this truth and stop hiding and fighting away his days. "Aye." he managed to say, and Thorin nodded, satisfied that he had gotten through to the heart of his young nephew. They embraced and touched forehead to forehead, clasping each other's forearms in solidarity. When they pulled apart Thorin began to gather his things from the mantle above the fire place.

"I plan on heading to Bree on the morrow, and I think it would be good if you were to accompany me."

Kili smiled broadly. A chance to travel again so soon since he had returned with the merchants from Dunland - he had not dared to hope that another opportunity would come so quickly. And with his Uncle no less, on some important family business. "Thorin, I would be honored." He bowed low, and then said sincerely, "Thank you." And he knew his Uncle knew it was thanks not just for the opportunity, but for their talk and his love.

Thorin made to leave, opening the wooden door. As he made to walk through he said with a wink, "You know you could make a better effort of tending your braids and taming those locks, and you may see more lasses looking your way." Then he laughed broadly and stepped out, as Kili shouted behind, "Aye, and you could make more of an effort to bathe and you'd see more looking your way as well!" The sounds of Thorin's laughter floated back as the door closed behind him, and Kili smiled to himself, then made to tend the fire. Fili would be home soon and Dis soon behind him, and they'd both be wanting supper. Sighing he went to work on a stew, feeling his heart lighter than it had been in some time, and hopeful about the days to some.

He was going on an adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

Kili shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. His brother still had his pipe to his lips, and when Kili looked over at him his brother blew out circles of smoke and gave a soft smile. They could hear the hobbit fussing still over his bedroll and blankets, complaining of something or another. He got up then and went over to the ponies. He was petting one when there was a sudden shriek in the distance. One look at Mr. Baggins and one could tell all of his senses were alert - he looked about like a bunny rabbit, scrunching his nose and half screaming as he exclaimed, "What - what was that?"

Kili held in the urge to laugh and decided to play a little joke on the hobbit instead. "Orcs." He said, as seriously as he could muster.

"Orcs!?" Bilbo screeched, and he shuffled closer towards Kili and Fili.

By now his brother had caught on, and Fili replied, "Throat cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The low lands are crawling with them."

Kili continued, "They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams - just lots of blood." He looked over at Fili and then they both smiled and began to chuckle.

Suddenly Thorin's voice boomed. "You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Kili looked up and saw Thorin pacing in front of them - he had seen that look on his uncle's face before and knew he had angered him. "We didn't mean anything by it," he said, casting his eyes to the ground.

"No you didn't. You know nothing of the world." Thorin walked away from them then, and away from the fire, towards the edge of the encampment.

Kili felt ashamed, and knew Fili felt the same. They both had heard the stories, the songs and tales of The Battle of Azanulbizar. But all of that seemed so long ago, a thing of history that was hard to fathom in their present.

Balin came up to the young dwarves and said kindly, "Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs..." He went on to tell the tale of Thorin's grandfather, Thror, and his death by Azog the Defiler in front of the Gates of Moria. He told of Thrain's disapearance in the heat of battle. There also Azog had made his vow to destroy the line of Durin, even as he battled Thorin one on one, and was grievously wounded. That was when the forces of the dwarves had rallied to their Prince, rallied to the voice of Thorin Oakanshield, and drove the enemy back within the walls of Moria, from whence they came. Fili and Kili and Bilbo looked up at that moment, when the tale was done, and the other dwarves that had now awakened all looked to him, to Thorin as he stood at the edge of camp, and in the fire and moonlight he looked majestic, like a great warrior wreathed in flame, and they were in awe. Balin said solemnly and with pride, "There is one I could call King."

The company settled back into their bed rolls and blankets, and looked to get a last few hours of sleep before dawn broke. Kili volunteered for the watch, knowing it was his mischevious instinct that had prompted Thorin's anger, and wishing to make it up to Fili and to Thorin. He moved away from the rock wall where the fire was burning down to embers and Fili lay asleep and headed towards the edge of the encampment, where Thorin had been standing before. He sat down on the felled tree trunk there and pulled out his own pipe and began cleaning it when Mr. Baggins came up beside him.

The Hobbit glanced at him sideways in that perfunctory way he moved his head, and then pulled out his own pipe, saying "I can't sleep. Bombur snores like a prize pig and these rocks and twigs won't let my back settle in. Let's have a smoke, aye?"

"Aye." said Kili, removing a small package of tobacco from his coat.

"Oh, no, no, no. Enough of that dwarf stuff." Bilbo sat down next to him and removed a package from his own coat and said pridefully, "Longbottom Leaf. Best in the Shire." he offered some to Kili and he stuffed his pipe, then passed it back. Both lit their pipes and inhaled, and Kili immedietely began coughing.

"Oi! " he sputtered, "No one can say you Hobbits don't have a tough constitution! This is strong leaf!"

Bilbo laughed. "Yes, we are very serious about our food, our weed, and, well, our food."

Kili smiled, inhaling and exhaling again. "Quite good, though, once you know what to expect." He puffed a bit more and they sat in silence for a spell. Finally Kili continued, "So how are you liking your adventure so far, Mr. Baggins?"

Bilbo shifted a bit in his seat. "Well, I do miss second breakfast. And elevensies. I do miss my books and my armchair, and my garden. It certainly is a bit more wet than I expected, and I do not rememebr the last night I actually got a full rest. But," he lifted his pipe into the air and gestured generally, "the company of dwarves is never boring, and I find myself liking Thorin despite his seriousness." He smirked.

"Aye, Thorin is quite a serious fellow. But he has a soft side, once you get to know him." Kili smiled then and looked at Bilbo. "He raised me you know. Me and Fi. Our Da was killed in battle. Fi was small, he remembers him, but I never knew him."

Bilbo considered this, then asked, tentatively, "What was it like, being raised by Thorin Oakenshield?"

Kili looked ahead, over the valley below them and into the distance. He remembered being a wee lad and Thorin taking him on his shoulders while Fili chased them around their small home. He remembered his mother's face every time Thorin came back from a long journey away, how she was so relieved to see him and scolded him for tattered clothes or new wounds that she had to tend to. He remembered nights by the fireplace where Thorin smoked his own pipe and told the tales of their people, from Mahal's creation to the start of the Seven Dwarven kingdoms. From Durin's rise to his fall. From the Desolation of the Smaug to the Destruction of Moria and the battles that came afterwards. He said softly to the little hobbit, "I suppose it was a lucky thing, that he was there for us after my Da died. Fili and I were a handful, as you can imagine." He grinned wickedly and Bilbo chuckled. "My Ma was grateful that he was there to regin us in and to teach us how to be dwarves worthy of the line of Durin. He always drilled into us that serious stuff about the line of Durin, about Erebor and how one day we would take it back. But he was really like a regular Da for us, too. He taught us how to fight, how to craft. He encouraged us - me - when I wanted to learn archery. Tis a strange thing among my people, to want to learn how to use a bow, let alone to craft one. But he found a man out in the towns about Ered Luin who worked with me and taught me."

"Ah, so you were a bit of an odd duckling, then." said Bilbo.

Kili chuckled, nodding. "Aye. My brother's always been the traditional one, with his swords and his blacksmithing. A bit more on the straight and narrow, that one. Looking out for his fool of a brother."

"Eh, I was a bit of a strange duck myself, back when I was in my tweens." laughed Bilbo. "Galavanting about The Shire, stopping dwarves and elves and men and all manner of folk and asking for stories of the wide world. You see," he leaned in conspiratorily, "there's a bit of Took in me." He put his finger to the side of his nose, tapping it twice. Kili had no idea what this meant, but laughed anyway. Bilbo laughed as well, then continued more seriously, "I suppose that's why Gandalf picked me, so I could finally live out all the adventures I'd been dreaming about in my head."

Kili nodded. "The world is a much different thing, Mr. Baggins, then what is in your books."

Bilbo sighed. "Aye, Kili. I'm learning that."

Kili slapped Bilbo lightly on the back. "We will have quite some tales to tell to our own children some day, Mr. Baggins."

Bilbo laughed nervously. "Oh, ha. Yes. Well. I've never been very much involved with any ladies. Well that is to say, ladies have never been very much involved with me." He cleared his throat and twitched his nose.

Kili smiled wide and laughed, slapping his knee. "Aye, don't feel bad Mr. Baggins. Fili always has lasses after him. They go on about his braids and his beard, and any time one of them comes to me, they're usually trying to find out something about him. So, I know what you mean about lasses not really favoring you." But he looked up at Bilbo then and said gently, "There's a time for everyone, though. And a person. Just needs to be right."

Bilbo smiled at that. "You are quite a happy chap, young Kili. And quite wise for your age." he said kindly.

"Well, I had a good teacher. He glanced over at Thorin, who was sleeping not a few feet away. He turned back to Bilbo. "For now, you should get some sleep. Not an hour now 'til sunrise."

Bilbo yawned and began to clean out his pipe. "Yes, well then. See you in the morning, Kili."

"Goodnight, Mr. Baggins." Kili said, then went back about cleaning his own pipe, lost once again in memories of his happy youth in the Blue Mountains, and hopeful for the future laid out at his feet.


End file.
